


murdering, marijuana

by sugarbunnydrop



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Bonding, Character Study, Dancing, Friends to Lovers, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Realistic depictions of use of weed, Recreational Drug Use, Weed, hisoillu, hisoka - Freeform, illumi zoldyck - Freeform, mostly lighthearted
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:13:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27211747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sugarbunnydrop/pseuds/sugarbunnydrop
Summary: hisoka and illumi get high together. <3
Relationships: Hisoka/Illumi Zoldyck
Comments: 18
Kudos: 131





	murdering, marijuana

Illumi was not new to the smell of cannabis. 

Small flashes of heady mafia backrooms, red velvet curtains, clattering chips and pinballs from numerous assassination jobs going undercover filled his head. 

The smell of expensive cigars constantly mingling with lung-filling thc that clung onto pin-striped business suits and blood red lipstick was so familiar that the thick smell intruding in the room he occupied almost put him on professional edge. There was something so distinct about it; weighty. 

Almost in a few seconds, it had wrapped around him and was near impossible to ignore. 

Illumi was situated in his bed. Well, it wasn’t his bed, it was Hisoka’s guest room bed. What seemed to be a dozen assassination jobs had popped up in the area it just so happened to be in, and Hisoka was more than happy to lend a place to stay.

Kikyo and Silva were, amusedly, in shock when he told them he had figured out his own living arrangements for the next few weeks. He remembered his mother’s pursed lips, lines of worry in her forehead hardly eased by Silva’s nonchalance towards Illumi staying with a ‘business associate.’ Such a name for the clown was ironic- both because of their actual engagement and their activities over the last year being anything but _business_. 

Hisoka’s penthouse in Yorknew was spacious. The marble finish of the floor, the high, pristine tables in the kitchen, gaudy paintings and decorum that probably cost more than the gallery the magician had bought them from spoke for the large, and (uncharacteristically) classy surroundings Illumi found himself in. 

‘ _Purely for business convenience_ ,’ the Zoldyck remembered telling Hisoka. Hisoka had only smiled in response. 

Even the silk sheets on the guest room bed were of the finest of qualities. They rivalled the shine of his polished pins, at bay and jammed into the wooden headboard. _Still_ , he numbly thought, _it was no Zoldyck Manor._

Yet, the creams, hair grooming items, containers of pins and poisons and everything under miscellaneous Illumi things that filled the room made it all feel homely. 

Strangely. 

Thumbing a black ribbon bookmark and placing his book on his bed, Illumi stood up from his comfortable position. He scrunched his nose, squinting towards his slightly ajar door that led to the source of the smell. 

It seemed that Hisoka and he had very different ideas of a more relaxing leisure time. Tying his hair up with a pink scrunchie, the only type of bands Hisoka owned, he weighed his options. 

The bed was warm, inviting, routine. He could crack open a window and let the cool draft carry the temptation of a new situation into the night. Or, he could find out what exactly was going on. Maybe discover a new angle to Hisoka. He crooned his neck, focusing on any other voices to see if Hisoka was alone. There was none. 

Curiosity built in his throat like bile. 

With a soft sigh, Illumi padded to the door of the room, a heavy hand on the knob. The cool metal stilled him, as he realised he had probably just fallen victim to another of Hisoka’s whims. Even so, Illumi closed the door softly behind him, walking down the corridor. 

When he reached Hisoka’s room and peered in, the door open in contrast to Illumi’s constantly closed one, he found it vacant. 

Going forward, a rather comforting hum of classical music wafted with the now visible smoke as Illumi made his way into the living room. _Mozart_ , he noted. 

He swung the door in front open, immediately drawn to the large TV hung on the vast wall that played a muted cartoon. The reflection onto the huge glass panels that gave an admittedly pleasant view of the city held both this and golden, still lights from clustered incense sticks in their holders situated around the room.

The assassin felt his eyes scan the room and it’s polished contents before resting right in the centre at the source of the new atmosphere. 

“ _Illumi_.” A deep voice purred. 

Illumi blinked at Hisoka. 

The magician, slowly sitting upright, was in a tight pink vest, naked broad shoulders flexing as they turned towards him; he was also in black satin pajama shorts. They were Illumi’s black satin pajama shorts. The drawstrings almost formed a heart on his bare thighs outstretched in front of him. His hair was wavy and down and a deep magenta, the black star and pink tear-drop on his face faint from a (judging from the redness of his collarbones) recent shower. Hisoka’s back was resting against the deep-red couch, one hand on the floor and the other holding a tightly rolled blunt, steadily burning. 

He remained some sort of composure, waving the joint in a lazy heart shape. 

Narrowed black eyes met slightly sunken, golden ones and Illumi cleared his throat, wafting a hand absent-mindedly as he approached Hisoka.

“You are high.” He said pointedly. There was no malice behind his words as steeled as they sounded. 

“Yes, but what are you?” Hisoka drawled, a sloppy grin forming on his face. 

“Sober.”

“That can change.” 

Illumi glanced at the, on closer inspection, bubblegum flavoured rolling papers, colourful assortment of lighters, pink sparkly grinders and huge air-tight bags of bulging weed. 

There was a lot. 

He had smoked weed before- a very, very long time ago. In the forest, miles from the manor, his 16-year-old self finding it the biggest thrill from the indirect misconduct. He remembered the dizziness, the intense lines on the trees, the insatiable hunger for food and not blood. But- he also remembered the paranoia, dark thoughts, the burning in his throat and the uncomfortable guilt twisting in his stomach of his parents not knowing his exact actions at that time that bloomed sometimes on harsher days. 

Realising he had been silent for a bit too long, he tilted his head in a silent debate. Hisoka had clearly not noticed his pause, his own head gently swaying to the music from the record player in the corner of the room, eyes focusing intensely on the cartoon still playing. 

“It will take a heavy amount to actually do something to me, though. I am practically immune to most toxins and drugs. How high are you?” Illumi answered and asked. 

“Not high enough.” Hisoka sighed, turning to the table and preparing another joint. Illumi, satisfied with his answer, sat down next to Hisoka carefully, criss-crossed. He knew the tight-fitting black jumper and black jogging bottoms he had worn would probably reek in a couple of hours but there was an obscure feeling in his chest that stopped him from going back to change. 

It was an ordinary saturday night. Usually, he read a book like he had been doing and would later join Hisoka for dinner and a movie they had settled on after tedious disagreement of category. That is if they had not decided to go out to dine, and leave a crimson trail in their path, on their own high from the slaughter of a handsy dancer or too-curious waiter. Maybe it was the slight change of routine making him lose his composure ever-so-slightly.

Illumi watched Hisoka’s long fingers and pink manicured nails handle the whole process of rolling with ease, he was humming. He felt that annoying pang of what could only be described as ‘pushing the acquaintance line’ he felt whenever he and Hisoka spent time together surfacing. 

This was felt when they had a particular good tag-team on an unexpected fight, when they realised they shared the same interest in history, thrill for a calculated kill, odd fondness for animals, when he lingered too long on his lips- the lips that now closed gently over the paper, the centre stuffed with green, dragging a slow, slow line… torturously.. 

A sharp nudge on Illumi’s side from Hisoka’s knee snapped the Zoldyck out of his thoughts. 

“These papers are bubblegum-flavoured.” Hisoka all but gleamed, a slightly knowing curve in his smile.

Ilumi regarded the paper once more, now being tightly rolled. Hisoka brought his lip down again, a sharp tongue sticking out to seal the last little flap with a stringy line of saliva. 

Illumi snorted. Now he was just being ridiculous. 

“Okay, Lumi!” Hisoka started.

“ _Illumi_.”

“Okay, Illu! I doubt you’ve smoked in a while, if ever, judging from your eyes being the size of saucers right now. Don’t frown at me. Okay, fine, that could also be from the smoke but whatever. Just take a big drag.” Hisoka imitated what this meant, sucking in air, “And hold it, almost. It has to hit the back of your throat- it will sting but it surely can’t compare to any pain you can’t handle, darling.” 

Illumi’s face soured at the innuendo and Hisoka’s little jab. “I know how to do it.” 

Flicking the lighter on, an amused smirk twisted on Hisoka’s face. 

“Perfect.” 

~

Illumi watched the perfectly screwed-up end burn slowly, the little orange ember swallowing the white-pink of the paper. It burned finely, stretching out and releasing a dark puff of smoke in it’s new wake. Illumi watched Hisoka’s eyes close as he inhaled deeply, his broad chest rising with the crackle of the draw.

He blew it out directly onto Illumi’s face which earned a scowl. 

“You nuisance.” He snarled. But short annoyance faded into a growing thump in his heart when he saw Hisoka’s glazed eyes, holding an extra wet layer of glee, a lazy, defined arm holding up the spliff. 

It had been a while but the assassin felt the same surge his teenage self felt. The whole situation felt teenage. Even worse, it felt friendly. 

Illumi took it, noticing too much how their fingers brushed, and held it to his lips. It was sweet. He took a deep breath in and tried as hard as he could to relish in the husky smoke that thundered past his teeth, scorched his throat and became acquainted with his lungs. In the corner of his eye, he could see Hisoka watching him with an exaggerated intensity that was similar to mystique. 

Spluttering short grey clouds, Illumi handed the piece back to Hisoka who took another easy huff. 

“So?” 

Illumi blinked hard, then shrugged. “I feel nothing.” 

“Not yet. This one’s mine. Let me roll you your own separate one, a little _thicker_ , yes?”

Illumi watched Hisoka quickly assemble a noticeably thicker sized blunt. He did this quick, mouth in a slight pout as he poured all of his concentration into a new roll.

“It’s very strong. I only buy the finest, of course. I expect maybe a couple more of these and you’re on your way to the clouds, my sweet.” He then said, handing it to him. 

“We’ll see.” Was the only response Illumi gave. 

~

All composure was lost between the two as they relaxed near the base of the sofa, sinking into the solid floor beneath them. Ilumi was positively gone. The room struggled to follow his line of vision and he couldn’t tell the difference between one finger to the other. He was flat on the floor, stomach-up and enjoying the hypnotic patterns dancing on the high ceiling, too boneless to move. 

After jagged conversation, he and Hisoka had found themselves in a comfortable silence, their minds doing most of the talking. They had slowly faded into the floor, two lumps of weak muscles and scattered brains. 

Illumi broke the silence. 

“My needles taste really good.”

Hisoka suddenly howled with laughter, clutching his stomach. The garish noise startled Illumi, who lifted his heavy head from the floor and sat up, staring owlishly. 

“Why’re you laughing, Hisoka?”

Hisoka’s now slightly reddened eyes shut painfully, a little tear sliding down his face as his mouth froze in a wide laughing shape, dry laughter the only noise coming out. 

“You are so hilarious, Illumi.”

Illumi felt his own mouth tug at the compliment that he still didn’t really understand why he got. A million thoughts were racing through his head. His heart hammered annoyingly fast in his chest and he couldn’t differentiate the cause being the v-line Hisoka now exposed in his ever laxing state or the eight spliffs he had gotten through. 

“I feel ever so relaxed. We should do this more, Illu.” Hisoka mumbled, carding a weightless hand through Illumi’s surprisingly still neat pony. Illumi froze, then lent into the touch, like a cat, eyelids blinking heavily as Hisoka started a gentle stroke at the base of his scalp; it was like he could feel every strand Hisoka touched reduced to a bunch of good feeling nerves when his skilled fingers gently raked comforting lines. 

Humming a short affirmation back, Illumi absently wondered about hair. His own black hair. Then his father’s white hair. Then Killua. Killua and hot summer days in the Zoldyck manor. How his own hand would ruffle his younger brother’s hair, rosy cheeks puffed in annoyance up at him, blue eyes sparkling. The memory was so vivid he almost jolted. 

He immediately tensed, the whole situation regarding the heir at hand unfolding in his head in a new and uglier light. 

As if on cue, Hisoka gently prodded Illumi, a hand still at work on his hair. “You’re thinking about the skating child.” Hisoka stated. Illumi nodded slowly, folding his hands onto his lap. Hisoka parted a skinny portion of his hair that had fallen from his ponytail into three parts, interlocking them within each other. Illumi sighed softly and sank slowly into the floor, thoughts gone. 

“Think about how sexy I am, that will distract you.”

Illumi raised a brow and snorted in response. Hisoka looked slightly dishevelled, hints of any fatigue colouring his undereye a sliver of shy lavender. 

But, his sharp features seemed intensified in Illumi’s state. He definitely was attractive.

He could see the wavy hair that stopped at the back of his neck, invitingly soft. Hisoka’s ears were strangely sharp and his nose held a perfect slope. Even the pearly white canines in his mouth were at a point. Everything about Hisoka was so calculated, down to each cell. The cluster of freckles on his shoulders were the only thing that stood out on his smooth, pale skin; creeping into his pink vest.

Regrettably, Illumi gingerly reached a hand out, his middle finger following the trail. Hisoka all but relaxed into his touch, following the advancement with a slight frown. 

“I forgot to texture surprise that. What a bother.”

Illumi shook his head, a few raven strands falling as he did so. “I like them.” He counted them, and they only seemed to multiply. His head felt ridiculously heavy but he was almost enamoured with the magician’s slack in his constant perfection. His fingers drew a slow line down Hisoka’s chest, feeling the hard swell of his chest dipping into his solid sternum. 

Hisoka’s breathing slowed.

Looking up, they were now mere inches away from each other’s face now. Once again, wrapped completely in each other. A tedious repeated moment that happened between them ever so often in the past recent weeks. 

Illumi knew his sober self was sneering at him. 

More strands of Illumi’s hair fell into his eyes and Hisoka’s frown thinned, raising an arm behind Illumi’s head. Illumi tensed, but Hisoka only let down his hair that fell in a comforting blanket down his back, his cowlick nearing his forehead unfurling onto Hisoka’s temple. 

At this, Hisoka’s pupils blew, darting up and down Illumi’s whole form. He was entranced.

“I think your freckles are nice.” Illumi breathed. 

Hisoka placed a firm hand on Illumi’s, still on his chest. It was stupidly warm. “I think everything about you is nice. You’re ethereal.”

Illumi’s heart hammered, yet his face remained blank. There was so much he wanted to say. The air around them held hints of smoke and blended in with the cinnamon smell of the incense sticks, the TV had auto turned off. It was then he noticed the absolutely vulnerable position he had now found himself in. He huffed.

“Your eyes are so dark. And big. You know that?” Hisoka all but whispered. 

The assassin felt dizzy. 

“I think I’m obsessed with you. Just a bit. I don’t know why I’m still talking.” Hisoka mumbled. 

Illumi blinked up at Hisoka’s face, in shock to see it was completely serious. Did he always look that handsome?

“You know not what you say.” He replied curtly, as monotonous as he could muster. Common sense fought to the frontlines of his brain, a cacophony of unfriendly thoughts flooding the no man’s land of his ingrained solitude. 

Hisoka cocked his head to the side, a crooked smile on his face. He ran a sharp manicured nail down Illumi’s face, hard enough to leave a little mark.

“I always know what I say.” His finger dipped a little deeper, curving the oval of Illumi’s jaw, a firm thumb on his chin, soon lifting it up to meet his eyes. “And I always know what I want.” 

Illumi swallowed thickly, drowning in the gold of Hisoka’s lustful gaze. As much as the magnetism between their lips grew stronger, the sting of the line on his face a delicious contrast to the warmth pooling in his groin and the tension growing thick in his now aching ribs he pulled away. 

Sniffing, Illumi crossed heavy arms. “I feel off.” he muttered. 

Hisoka leant back, still coy. “Don’t. I’m not going to kill you just yet, I haven’t exhausted my fun with you. We haven’t even fucked.” 

There was a slight pause after this, before they glanced at each other. They held a strong gaze and Illumi felt dumb, his mouth slightly ajar as he tried to register what his associate had just said. This silence turned into spluttering laughter, deep, guttural, uncontrollable laughter that filled the large penthouse. Illumi’s shoulders shaking with mirth only coming to a halt as Hisoka now slowly chuckled. 

“You are an absolute fool. You should call yourself a jester, not a magician.” Illumi laughed, taking off his sweater. Underneath was a black singlet. The cool air on his arms felt so exhilarating he pondered on why he hadn’t taken it off before.

Hisoka’s eyes followed his every move, then settled on the new view of Illumi’s arms. 

“Jester?” He hummed. He then mocked a bow, head dipping a little too low. “I am at your service, Prince Zoldyck of needle land and angst. What humorous requests do you wish for?” 

“Dance me a jig.” Illumi replied, half serious. 

Hisoka grinned, wobbily getting up and shimmying his way to the record player. He ran a finger over thousands of skinny records, wedged tightly between each other before he landed on one, tapping the top. Seemingly satisfied, he plucked it out. In no time, the classical music stopped abruptly and a little whir followed before it bellowed a swingy jazzy tune. Hisoka cringed, lowering it slightly before his head nodded to the upswing of a timely song. 

The song was intoxicatingly good; it held a slight melancholic tone, but was so strung up and ferocious even Illumi bopped, shoulders rising and switching sides to the tune. Hisoka seemed made for this particular melody, strong hips in play with the smooth saxophones and violent violins, hands animated.

Illumi watched, amused. 

Hisoka then made his way over to him, a hand outstretched. “May I have this dance?” He purred. 

Illumi would later blame it on his disorientation, the dominance of a good song possessing him, but he firmly accepted, being whirled to a stand. “Don’t go too fast-” He started but immediately, Hisoka held Illumi’s narrow waist, setting a good pace of swaying to the song. 

Illumi awkwardly placed his hands on Hisoka’s shoulders, his high still too strong to adjust to his now standing position. 

If the clown noticed, he didn’t say. He twirled Illumi, catching him again in an even firmer hold. Illumi gasped, the whirl giving him a pleasant rush of adrenaline. After some fast motion side steps and circles, the song had gone into its second chorus. 

He melted into the dance, hands interlocking behind Hisoka’s head, even if his head was turned away ever so slightly. Hisoka closed his eyes, possibly mustering the grit to summon Illumi closer until their chests touched.

Illumi narrowed his own eyes, even if the little act caused a fire to stir in his stomach once again. 

He idly wondered if Hisoka knew this would all happen. He had definitely not expected himself to be dancing with his colourful counterpart this evening. Looking at Hisoka’s peacefully closed eyes, small smile and annoyingly knowing sloping brow, he bitterly wondered how everything always seemed to work out for him. 

Being twirled, the butterflies in Illumi’s stomach rejoiced, crowding his thoughts. Maybe he could let himself surrender to the fun feeling. 

They knocked knees, Illumi’s balance lost and immediately found as Hisoka caught his hand, setting him upright again.

Hisoka’s hand was so calloused and strong; his scent so sweet and familiar. He hated how he found himself not wanting to rip out his throat, or pick at any little weakness he could find. Oh how Illumi could melt into the feeling of soon prying open Hisoka, finding the thing that made Hisoka tick and throw it open, rip it into little parts.

Instead, he found the only thing giving him joy at the moment was dancing around with Hisoka, stoned.

Illumi cocked his head to one side. 

_Is this how Killua feels ?_

They were in perfect motion now- well as perfect as two adults high on copious amounts of bud could be. The two swung, feet dancing a messy rendition of a waltz; Illumi’s hair swishing gracefully around his arms. Hisoka’s grip was a steady pulse that seeped into Illumi’s skin, pure waves of near ecstasy colouring his vision and the whirling room pink. 

“Dancing must be a Zoldyck specialty.” Hisoka mused, the sentence more of a question.

Illumi pulled them away from incense sticks on the floor they neared, clumsily unfurling from Hisoka’s hold and stepping back into the motions. 

“We did take lessons.” He replied. 

“Ah.”

The music then stopped, changing into a more mellow jazz song. The sudden change seemed to snap Illumi out of his reverie and uncover any shred of sense he had left.

Slowly untangling himself from the magician, he flicked his hair over his shoulder. Hisoka quirked a brow, inquisitive. The magic was gone.

Illumi sniffed. “I’m hungry.” 

“Pizza?” 

“Chinese.” 

“Why not pizza? Do you have something against pizza?”

“Chinese.” 

Hisoka stared at Illumi. “Alright, princess.” He sighed, bungee-gumming his phone from a nearby glass table. Illumi watched with wide eyes as the pink substance flew back into Hisoka’s hand, a little thwack punctuating it’s return. The nen substance looked so much more vibrant- even Hisoka squinted before he dispersed it. 

“Hi. I would like a special fried rice.. Large…” 

“Chicken chow mein. Medium.” Illumi added. 

“Yeah, that. Prawn crackers on the side. Do you have ribs? Yes? - Oh, joy. Honey-glazed please…”

Illumi suddenly felt a new light spread out on the centre of his head, unsteadying his balance. He scoffed and sat down, but the couch below him sunk into the floor. Oh no. 

Hisoka looked at him, confused, but Illumi only glanced down at his hands that were now completely covered in blood. He could almost smell the copper. 

“Okay,” He said. 

In a blink they were clean again. He must be reaching what he had soon learned happened when he smoked as a teenager, his peak. 

Fear creeped up his throat.

“Thanks. 45 minutes? Make that 30. Perfect, thanks.” Hisoka rounded the call, setting his phone down. 

Illumi looked up at Hisoka who looked like a sinister and unfamiliar mix of Hisoka-like features and blurred skin. “Oh.” Illumi said softly, “I think my mind is playing...tricks.. on..” The word “tricks” seemed slowed down, heavy on his tongue. He suddenly forgot what the end of his sentence was. 

Hisoka’s gears turned slowly before he realised what was going on. 

“I think you’re having your peak, Lumi.” The magenta-haired male laughed. 

Illumi looked up at him miserably. 

Hiding his chuckle, Hisoka plopped down next to him, rubbing soothing circles onto his back. “Talk me through it.” 

Illumi did not want to talk. But his emotions he could usually cap were heightened, and he felt his aura slip out in a shy manifestation of his confusion. Illumi saw goosebumps ripple up Hisoka’s arms, but it went undiscussed. “Everything is swirled. I haven’t felt like this since I was 16.” 

Hisoka whistled. “So you weren’t lying when you suggested that you’ve done this before.” 

“Years ago. And I hardly lie.”

“That’s not true. You lie to me all the time.”

Illumi slumped his head, it was so heavy. He groaned, laying back on a cushion that seemed to envelop his back. Hisoka lay back with him. 

“You lie about how much you enjoy spending time with me.” Hisoka continued, “ You also lie about us not being friends.” Illumi felt another wave of dizziness and slight derealisation, flopping sideways.

Not hiding his chuckle this time, Hisoka eased Illumi’s head onto his lap, lightly fanning his face. Illumi felt his eyes flitter close against the satin of Hisoka’s shorts. 

They stayed like this for a moment, breaths baited. Illumi could see stars on the insides of his eyelids, jammed shut. His body was now outstretched on the couch, heavy and unattached from his head that swam with thoughts. His first thought being how comfortable Hisoka’s thighs as a rest were; how uncharacteristic he must be acting and how he also didn’t really care.

After a few beats of silence, Illumi spoke. 

“We are not friends.” 

He turned his face into the flesh of Hisoka’s thigh, suddenly cross. 

“Mhm~” Hisoka hummed, tucking stray hairs behind Illumi’s ear. 

“Then why do I want to be?” Illumi grumbled.

There was a long silence. Hisoka’s finger traced the shell of his ear. “More than?” 

Illumi shifted his head upright, meeting a surprisingly sheepish Hisoka averting his eyes. A possessiveness curdled in Illumi’s stomach.

“You do not need friends when you have family. The family are your only friends. Everyone else will disappoint, betray you or die. You live for this family and this family only.” The assassin echoed the words he had learnt since he had gained consciousness in the world. 

The magician met his eyes finally, frowning heavily. “Your parents are full of shit, Illu.” 

Illumi felt the instant need to defend, his hand flexing for pins that should be inches deep into his hip. But he nestled his head down further instead. His peak was steadily slowing. Something about being held and talked to seemed to relax him. 

“How do you find it so easy to be like this?” Illumi asked suddenly, the words slurred and so innocently inquisitive that Hisoka’s heart leaped.

“I simply do not give a fuck. Not even the smallest, to be quite frank.” His high seemed to make him more brash than lethargic, unlike Illumi.

“Elaborate.”

Hisoka’s lip quirked. “I have no regard for social cues, I hate people. But, how I love to put on a show.” 

“That makes no sense.” Illumi bit. 

“You have spent your whole life caring and doing things for others. You live to do things for others, I don’t. That’s why I’m like this. You, dearest, have never even disobeyed an order.”

Illumi felt suddenly embarrassed. He felt slight heat rise to his cheeks alongside the sudden and ridiculous urge to raise his head and upper body. He was now seated uncomfortably on Hisoka’s lap, but all that mattered was his hand. His hand that now seemed controlled, assertively gripping one side of Hisoka’s face, his thumb smudging the faint painted heart into Hisoka’s cheek. 

Hisoka’s hand receptively snaked around Ilumi’s waist and he gleamed up at him. 

“Wipe that shit-eating grin off.” Illumi snarled. 

“Make me.” 

Like that, Illumi firmly placed his lips on Hisoka’s, denying him the pleasure of initiating a proper kiss. He broke off briefly. 

“There. I have just disobeyed an order.”

Hisoka’s eyes sparkled with delight before he met his lips again with a smile, nails digging into Illumi’s side. Like they melted into the dance earlier, they melted into each other once again.

The taste of weed and faint bubblegum was deliciously good, and Illumi hazily felt himself warm more into the kiss. His mind was so heavy and so so high that the only thing grounding him was Hisoka’s almost equally sloppy hold and the velvet of his lips. 

It very quickly became open-mouthed.

Bare arms draped over broad shoulders, a pink-nailed hand dug into raven silk, tongues lazily met in earnest greeting and hearts raced frantically. Hisoka moaned lightly as Illumi shifted on top of him, flush against his chest again like when they were swaying. 

“Are you-?” Hisoka started, but Illumi kissed his jaw. Why was he talking? “Are you feeling better?” 

Illumi nodded gruffly, wanting no more than to lose himself in this moment encased in heat. Heat he didn’t know he was actually truthfully holding. His arousal fastly quieted his high and he knew he would regret this in a couple of hours. 

He knew he would think back in distaste with how Hisoka slowly pinned him down, going straight to his neck. He knew he would regret the slight hitch in his throat as Hisoka’s tongue travelled to his collarbone, slowly marking it with love bites. He knew he would hate how he held onto Hisoka like a lifeboat in a vast pacific, tangling his legs with Hisoka’s like twisting coral. 

And he would absolutely detest, loathe and despise the way Hisoka suddenly now stared down at him; golden eyes staring straight into his void ones with so much passion that his chest squeezed in pure excitement. Illumi felt euphoric, he knew emotions were heightened under the effect of drugs. It was science. That explains this all. 

“Hisoka,” He whispered.

A fond look painted the magician’s face. 

“Illumi.” 

The eldest Zoldyck swallowed. He had to take advantage of his drug-induced state and tell him every intricate thought that overwhelmed him about Hisoka- he needed to. His mind decided there was no better time. 

“I-”

A loud buzzer was heard and Hisoka suddenly shot up and clapped his hands. 

Illumi winced.

“The food! Now, you’re going to try your hardest to sit up for me and we are going to get some food into you to sober you up!” Hisoka sang, half-stumbling, half-skipping to the phone on the wall. 

After telling the delivery man to pass it to someone to bring it up, Hisoka went and filled two tall glasses of water. Illumi hadn’t even realised how thirsty he was, his mouth parting with a little cluck as he lapped down one passed to him. 

In the corner of his eye he could see that Hisoka was staring at him intensely and he drank slower, focusing his eyes on the centre of the glass to avoid contact. When the food came, Hisoka hastily raced to and fro to splay it all out in front of them. 

“Here’s yours.” Hisoka pushed a couple of white opened boxes full of food to Illumi who nodded appreciatively. 

It all looked ridiculously good, an evident steam above too-vibrant looking noodles and rice and ribs and little extras that bulged in their respective cartons. 

They ate in silence. Although the silence grew into a rather disgusting rhythm of fast-paced scoffing. They stuffed their faces, brows slanted and focused. 

“This is.. So nice.” Illumi huffed between bites, the scrape of his chopsticks gathering food and ending his sentence. 

Hisoka had two single pieces of rice stuck to his face, lips slick with oil. He turned to Illumi, still chewing. “It’s so fucking good.” Illumi turned to him and the new pleasure of good food pushed Illumi to adorn an uncharacteristic small, childish grin. Hisoka grinned back. 

Hisoka thought in his head that Illumi did not fit a smile, but his huge insect eyes were crinkled in the corners with such genuine glee that made the rest of their eating, heads downturned again, so pleasurable. 

~

They were curled up on the couch. Empty abandoned food boxes lay discarded around the little coffee table they had eaten on.

The TV was back on and Hisoka had put on a rainforest documentary that played very low. Illumi had his head resting on Hisoka’s chest, but not too close, Hisoka’s arm lazily draped around him. He could smell the cinnamon perfume Hisoka used on his pink vest, and each inhale brought him closer to sobriety. 

“How high are you now?” 

Hisoka splayed his hand out, tilting it side-to-side. “A good medium. I’ve had control for a while. “ Almost sensing llumi’s frown he continued, “But I didn’t have as much as you.” 

Illumi watched a dewdrop drip off a blade of grass and the little fire ant that rejoiced on the TV with every sip of it, finishing off a little prawn cracker bit by bit. He enjoyed the way it melted in his mouth. The ant scuttled to a little hole in the ground it must have come from, it’s dark bulbous end wiggling before it disappeared under the ground. 

“I want to be that ant.” Illumi murmured. 

Hisoka cocked a brow, “You’re so weird “ he said, chuckling humouredly. “Even when you’re high you are just so weird.” 

Illumi felt a sort of sadness pinch at his face. 

“I love it. You are so Illumi.”

Illumi felt Hisoka’s free hand trace up his arm and to his cheek, cupping it, before he could question what that meant. Illumi leaned in unintentionally, feeling a headache he didn’t even know he had disperse immediately under Hisoka’s warm palm. 

A loud notification noise suddenly sounded in the room. The vibration was felt a little after. It was Illumi’s phone in his pocket. He blearily looked at the screen, feeling Hisoka croon his neck to look also. 

**1:10AM** _Unsaved: Any update on the Horishikos’ target? They have raised the price for an earlier kill. -Silva > _

Illumi typed a quick reply back, flinging his phone into the corner of the couch. 

Hisoka whistled, secretly enjoying how Illumi nestled back into his side. “Baaaad Illumi. Disobedient Zoldyck!” 

Illumi simply yawned, too tired and heavy-lidded to entertain the taunt.

Naturally, the assassin noticed how much closer they were physically. Even more so as Hisoka wordlessly pulled a thin blanket from an arrangement of them from underneath the couch and delicately placed it over the two. 

This was the stuff they had been getting up to the past months. Affection, bonding, small little acts that showed genuine appreciation… a relationship that was very rapidly getting harder to wedge under “business associate” or even “acquaintance.” 

Although Illumi still knew he was probably one of Hisoka’s toys. Maybe a highly regarded one. A plaything. Something he will shortly get bored of and dispose. He welcomed the bitter feeling in his stomach that sprouted. 

“Well that’s simply not true.” Hisoka said. Illumi had spoken aloud. 

“Shut up.” 

“I have the most obvious crush on you.”

Illumi’s cheeks tinted. “Shut up.” 

Hisoka drew him in closer, fatigue resting his lower face on the top of Illumi’s head. The tired feeling was infectious and Illumi blinked slowly, the TV becoming a little hum. The increased thump in Hisoka’s heart was so raw and loud, like a lullaby Illumi could lose himself in. 

“I don’t cuddle with my toys.” Hisoka mumbled, voice deep from his slow entrance into sleep.

“We’re not cuddling,” Illumi replied, lolling his head further into Hisoka’s now heavily rising and lowering chest. 

His hand rested on the magician’s heart that was steadily beating promises of tomorrow and bloodshed.

Illumi was definitely no longer high, yet his fist curled delicately on Hisoka’s chest, his face smushed next to it. Hisoka’s breath stuttered delightedly before he rested his other arm around Illumi, holding him close.

In a matter of seconds the two had drifted off, into a deep thc-induced sleep that was no doubt preparing them for a day of an onslaught of teasing that preceded inevitable denial. 

The buzzes from Illumi’s phone were easy to miss in their slumber. Three missed phone calls.

Lighting up, the screen presented a new single message with a little chime.

_‘_ **1:57AM** _Unsaved: Illumi, what does “fck of, ia m hghi.” mean? Is it code? Are you in trouble? Get back to me. - Silva >’_

  
  
  
  
  


****

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first hisoillu fanfiction so i hope i did my hyperfixation for the past couple of months justice :) seriously, i am stupidly obsessed with these two. <3 i had often thought about how they would act high and ive been itching to write it out ; it’s based mostly on my own experiences & slightly exaggerated stuff ~ pls comment below & let me know your thoughts !


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